


And My Arms Will Be (Just Like Walls Around You)

by imfallingforyoureyes102



Series: On the Outside Looking In [8]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, CEO Oliver Queen, CEOliver, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Executive Assistant Felicity Smoak, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Oliver Queen, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Oliver Queen Has PTSD, Oliver Wump, OutsideLookingIn, Panic Attack, Protective Felicity Smoak, WeMendEachOther
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 08:08:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21424960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imfallingforyoureyes102/pseuds/imfallingforyoureyes102
Summary: But then lightning hits again, thunder fracturing the silence, and the Oliver that Thea sees is ten thousand miles away from the Oliver she knows.God,when she’d said he needed to let someone in she knew she was right.His face is pale white - his mouth drawn into a tight, pained line - and the way Oliver clutches the doorknob like a lifeline is enough to draw a panicked breath from Thea’s small frame.(Or, while Thea hides out in the kitchen during a party at the Queen Mansion, a thunderstorm hits and it's Oliver who's stumbling in through the doors on the verge of a panic attack. Thea's all too scared and all too shocked and it's only a certain blonde that comes tumbling in after him who is able to pull the shattered pieces of Oliver Queen back together).
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: On the Outside Looking In [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1319063
Comments: 76
Kudos: 718





	And My Arms Will Be (Just Like Walls Around You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends, another quickly written update. Again, I didn't really go through and edit so apologies for any sort of errors. Also, my posting schedule is kinda screwed up because I am currently out of the country studying ~abroad~ so sorry if I update at weird times. 
> 
> Please please please tell me what you think!
> 
> Also, I had trouble deciding on whether to put this in the We Mend Each Other series or the On the Outside Looking In series but, since the former already has a piece similar to this in terms of Oliver's PTSD (This Love Came Back to Me) _ and_ because I wrote this with the original intention of Thea being the spectator, I decided on the latter. 
> 
> Please please please let me know what you think! I'm finding it a bit harder to get into Thea's head than with the other spectators. Hope this does justice to the people that wanted Thea's perspective - and don't worry, there will certainly be more ones with Thea. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_BANG!_

Thea Queen’s eyes flit slowly around the room, taking in the dark shadows of pots and pans dancing along the kitchen walls every time lightning streaks violently through the sky. 

She’s pulled herself into a small ball, her arms wrapped tightly around the legs she has pressed to her chest, and for as bold and insistent and as fearless as she proudly claims to be, she feels pretty small. 

Thea shuts her eyes, her fingers pressing firmly against her temple as she tries to drown out the muffled thrum of music floating in from the ballroom. When it does nothing but deepen her headache, she lets out a hard huff and leans her head against the rain splattered window instead.

Thea squeezes her eyes and clenches her hands into tight fists. 

She’s pissed. Absolutely, positively, a thousand times pissed. And sure, “pissed, angsty, rebellious” Thea Queen is, without a doubt, her _thing_. But right now all she feels is cruddy and she hates it hates it hates it. 

Another bang echoes through the room, this one much quieter than the rumble of thunder, and Thea lets her head roll lazily towards the door. Music floods in from the hallway and Thea has never been so _over_ a stupid party than she is right now. She squints her eyes against the darkness, hoping beyond hope that it isn’t her mother looming in the doorway because she will _not_ go back and dance with Timothy Fisher.

It’s only when she sees broad shoulders and a domineering build that Thea realizes who it is.

_Ollie_.

It’s Oliver – of course it is. She can tell from the way the form stands almost rigid in the doorway. She wants to tell him to _get out_ \- wants to tell him that this dumb fundraiser was _his_ idea in the first place and she’s already claimed the kitchen as her hideout so he can move his sorry ass to another room. 

But then lightning hits again, thunder fracturing the silence, and the Oliver she sees is ten thousand miles away from the Oliver she knows.

_God, _when she’d said he needed to let someone in she knew she was right.

His face is pale white - his mouth drawn in a tight, pained line - and the way Oliver clutches the doorknob like a lifeline is enough to draw a panicked breath from Thea’s small frame. 

A strangled moan falls from Oliver’s lips and Thea watches as he stumbles forward into the dark room – she watches as he collapses against the countertop, his shoulders hunching as he braces himself on the sleek granite. His chest is heaving up and down and he’s got his eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows drawn so tightly together and for a second, Thea’s four again and Ollie’s just witnessed a car accident on the highway and she’s waiting for her father to come racing home and scoop Oliver up into his arms.

Instead, it’s the blinding flash of thunder and lightning that brings reality back to Thea’s focus, and she watches helplessly as her brother – her rock, her shield, her protector – shatters into a million pieces.

She’s frozen in place, unsure of what to do. She knows he’s having a panic attack, she would be a fool not to - but she’s also only seventeen and is only now learning that Oliver isn’t the unwavering, fearless, confident person she’d always thought him to be.

He’s much more than that.

He’s also human, though, and the guttural sound that pulls from his chest is so close to a sob and Thea wishes more than anything to take whatever burden he’s holding and carry it as her own.

Another bang of thunder shakes the room, and Thea can see that Oliver’s losing whatever internal battle he’s fighting. He tries to push around the countertop, but ends up slamming back into the fridge in a panicked frenzy.

He’s bends over a little, bracing his hands against his thighs, his breaths following short and quick with Thea’s own heartbeat, and Thea’s about to move forward towards him when she remembers what her mother said.

_If he gets like that, Thea dear, you get me. Don’t approach him. He won’t be thinking straight. _

Thea shakes the words out of her head, and slips her feet over the edge of the small window seat. She doesn’t really care what Oliver could do to her, though, because this is her _brother_ and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t help him.

_BANG!_

Thea jumps this time – really jumps – because where she had been solely focused on Oliver’s shaking form, she had completely forgotten that there was a party going on just a few rooms over.

“_Oliver.”_

Thea slowly slinks back into the shadows, eyebrows drawing together in ardent confusion.

It’s that blonde that she’s seen Oliver with every now and then – the one with the glasses and the brightly painted finger nails and pink stained lips and really awkward sexual innuendoes that make even Thea blush.

She’s not entirely sure how she feels about her – Felicity, she thinks she’s called – especially now that she’s pretty sure she’s his Executive Assistant.

His blonde, tight skirt wearing, young and attractive Executive Assistant.

But the way Oliver’s name leaves her lips – the way it comes out breathless and so _so relieved – _keeps Thea pressed out of sight.

“Oliver?” Felicity’s voice pierces the quiet room again.

She turns around, squinting against the darkness, but it’s the noise of Oliver slowly backing up into the kitchen wall that pulls Felicity’s eyes towards him.

“Oh, Oliver,” Felicity whispers as she rushes towards him. Her heels snap sharply against the tile floor, and Oliver starts violently.

Felicity toes them off without hesitation, instantly another four inches shorter without the help, and drags herself right up into Oliver’s personal space.

Thea presses a fist against her mouth, muffling a gasp.

She knows how Oliver reacted to their mother trying to wake him the first night, and she’s ten times terrified that he’s going to break Felicity.

He doesn’t though, not at all.

“Oliver,” Felicity repeats, her hands flying up and flattening across his chest. She pushes into him, as if trying to ground him, and Thea watches as Oliver all but slumps forward into her.

“Oliver, _Oliver,_” Felicity whispers, hands moving to pull his face towards hers. “Oliver, you need to calm down.”

“_Fe-li-ci-ty.”_

_Oh god_, Thea’s heart breaks.

Oliver’s voice comes out gravely and broken and laced with unshed tears and he’s slumped so far into Felicity that his nose brushes against her forehead.

He leans back against the wall and slides down onto the floor. Felicity follows right along, crawling right up between his bent knees and pulling firmly on his face.

“Oliver, look at me,” she whispers fiercely. Her voice sounds just as broken as his, and Thea can’t help but feel like she shouldn’t be there. “You’re okay, Oliver. You’re safe.”

It’s then Oliver really breaks down – then when the dam breaks and he finally let’s himself _feel._

A shattering sob ribs through his body, heightened by the way he can’t seem to control his breathing. He’s shaking so hard and the constant roll of thunder isn’t doing anything to help.

“L’city – I can’t – breathe. _I can’t breathe._”

As light floods the room for a second, Thea can see the way Oliver glances around frantically, eyes panicked and unseeing. Felicity pulls his face back to her own, one hand still pressed firmly against his chest.

“Oliver, sweetheart, look at me,” Felicity’s crying now too, Thea can hear it in her voice, and something about the way the blonde IT expert brings Oliver’s forehead against her own – something about the way she gently thumbs away at the stray tear that rolls down her brothers cheek, let’s Thea know exactly what she needs to about Felicity Smoak.

“You’re okay, you’re home, you’re safe,” she brushes a strand of hair from Oliver’s eyes but it does nothing to quell the storm in his mind.

“_Oliver - ,”_

“I -,” Oliver pulls back, his head dropping harshly against the wall as a particularly vicious swell of thunder booms and shakes the room. He takes a heaving breath – one laced with a choking sob, “I can’t _breathe_, I –,”

“Breathe with me,” Felicity whispers, pulling Oliver’s hand over her chest. “Follow my breath, Oliver. There you go,” Felicity trails off, her thumb tenderly grazing up and down Oliver’s cheekbone.

Oliver’s hand clutches tightly at Felicity’s dress, almost as if unconsciously pulling her closer. He’s shaking so hard and breathing so fast and Thea’s a bit terrified that he’s going to hurt himself and Felicity’s all but pressing herself into him to ground him.

The door next to Thea opens slightly, and she’s spinning around with wide eyes and her heart in her throat.

“Thea - ,” Moira’s reprimand dies on her lips as she takes in the scene in front of her, and Thea watches as a swirl of emotions flash across her mother’s face.

It’s Oliver’s wheezing breath that pulls their attention away from each other and back towards the oldest Queen child.

Thunder strikes one after the other, a succession of booms pulsating through the room, and Oliver lurches forward against Felicity, his fingers digging deeper into her dress – his breathing shifting back towards the point of chaos.

Thea can feel her mother fighting between staying put and going towards her son.

“Felic -,”

“Five things you see.”

Where Oliver’s voice is absolutely shattered, Felicity’s is insistent and beautiful and whole.

“Oliver,” Felicity presses her fingers under Oliver’s chin, gently tugging his face up to meet hers. “Five things you see,” she repeats firmly, not letting Oliver’s gaze drop from her own. “C’mon honey, five things.”

She says the last bit so quietly – so full of something deeper than friendship – and Thea’s head is tilting slightly as she starts to see the blonde in front of her in a different light.

Oliver swallows hard, eyes darting around him.

“The cabinets,” he starts, his voice hoarse and strained.

Felicity nods as Oliver drops his head back against the wall, her hand falling with the quick rise and fall of his chest.

“One,” she whispers quietly. “Four more.”

“The window,” Oliver groans out, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He takes in a shaky breath. “Raisa’s pots and pans, your shoes.” Oliver brings his eyes forward.

“_You_.”

Another heaving breath.

“Four things you feel.”

“The wall, the tile, my shirt,” Oliver’s voice wavers and he brings his hand up slowly and captures a strand of Felicity’s hair. He can’t seem to get the last word out, but Felicity smiles and squeezes his hand.

“Good,” she murmurs. Oliver’s still toeing the line of a full blown panic attack, and Felicity presses forward, all of her focus on the large man in front of her.

“Three things you hear.”

Oliver’s quicker to respond now, and his words tug a small smile onto Thea’s lips.

“The music,” Oliver huffs out. “Stupid C-Carter Bowen’s voice.”

Felicity giggles and it’s like a beam of sunlight engulfs the room.

“Your laugh.”

Oliver’s voice is a whisper, and it’s the calmest he’s sounded yet.

Felicity leans closer to him as he sags into her, brushing her lips against his forehead.

“Two things you smell,” she murmurs into his hair.

Oliver’s drops his forehead against her collar bone.

“Cotton soap,” he sighs. “Your perfume.”

“One thing you taste,” Felicity’s voice trails off into silence and Oliver murmurs something against her neck. He’s all but breathing normally, the only thing imprisoning him now being the chains of fatigue.

Oliver draws back slowly and drags a hand down his face. Thunder and lightning continue to rage around them, but his attention is fully captured by the woman sat in front of him.

Felicity reaches up at him, both hands settling on either side of his face, and she thumbs away the tears that he missed.

His eyes flash up to meet hers, and while they are tired and red and worn, they are unquestionably clear.

“Hey you,” Felicity whispers.

Oliver gives her a tired smile, and the tears that leave his eyes are miles away from the ones before. He’s ten times dazed and in need of a long night’s sleep, but Thea watches the way his eyes take in every inch of the blonde’s face.

Felicity presses her lips firmly between Oliver’s eyebrows before moving to lean against the wall right next to him.

“C’mere,” Felicity murmurs, and Oliver all but melts into her embrace.

He curls into her then, his massive body almost engulfing her small one. Still, he looks tiny in her strong embrace.

He winds his arms around her torso, his head pillowing against her chest, and Felicity holds him just as tight, her chin coming to rest on his head.

She buries her face in his hair, her eyebrows drawing together tightly and her eyes watering with unshed tears as she takes in a shuddering breath.

“L’city - ,”

A smile breaks onto Felicity’s face, as if she knows exactly what he is going to say.

“You’re my best friend too, Oliver,” she says into his hair, trying to keep the large man from expending any more energy.

He frowns against her chest.

“L’city - ,” he says more firmly – urgently, and Felicity tightens her hold around Oliver’s shoulders.

“I know, Oliver,” she whispers. “I know. Me too.”

Oliver sighs contently, and while Thea is lost and confused and whatever conversation they managed to have without saying anything at all, she knows it’s one that Oliver fully understands.

Thea steps back into her just as awe-stricken mother, a small smile tugging at her lips at a fairly recent and strained memory.

“_I know that it was hell where you were, but it was hell here too. You gotta let me in, Ollie.”_

Thea nods once, throat tight and her eyes brimming with her own set of unshed tears.

She’s offers one last glance at her brother – one last glance at the blonde woman that seems to hold the strength of the world in her small body.

“_You gotta let _someone_ in."_

She’s so glad he finally did.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Reviews feed my soul and make me whole and happy and all things grand!
> 
> Love you all!


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